We Were Maid For Each Other
by Harper's Eloquence
Summary: Finally, Ash had been defeated. And now Paul was the #1 pokemon master. All Ash was looking for was a little work. A summer job at the Shinji Estate as a butler couldn't be so bad, right? Wrong, it was bad. But not cruel, just naughty... comashipping
1. Chapter 1 ASH

"And the winner is the newly undefeated young master, Paul Shinji of Veilstone City!" The crowd that was stockpiled throughout the stadium roared with glee. Cynthia had been defeated. There was a new master in town, and his name was Paul.

_He won, _Ash's whole body trembled as he watched the mind blowing scene from the safety of his living room, _He actually won. _He clenched his now paled fists around a sofa cushion sitting in his lap. _And now that he's the champion..._ Delia, who had been in the kitchen making dinner, turned her attention away from the stove when she heard muffled whimpers coming from around the corner. ..._now that he's the best... _She cautiously stepped to the side and peeped at her son, alone on the couch. Her heart sank at his sorrow, but she could tell that he didn't want to talk right then. He seemed so alone, just sitting there. In his own little world of pain. She wanted to reach out so desperately. She could even feel her hand slowly rising to grasp his shoulder and pull the young raven-haired boy into a hug.

_But he isn't a boy anymore,_ Delia sighed as the truth struck her for the millionth time, _He's a grown man. Eighteen, going on nineteen. Soon enough he'll marry and have little raven-haired boys and girls of his own. He can be strong by himself. He'll be just fine if I- _A gentle tug on her hand interrupted Delia's thought train.

"Mom, stop crying," A gentle voice whispered, his soft lips barely touching her ear. At this simple statement, Delia erupted into even more tears, and Ash tenderly pulled her into his chest, stroking her soft, coral hair. And then they just stood there, letting each other have a moment of silence. Not to commemorate the past, but to assure a calm, happy future. Ash groaned, replaying the battle in his head. _Now that he's the best... I can never impress him... I can never be good enough for him.. he'll never... love me._

Both Ash and Delia's heads sprang back up as a faint beeping noise could be heard swooping in from the kitchen.

"Oops, better go turn off the stove before you omelette gets too crispy, Ash," Delia chuckled, dashing away to save dinner. Ash sighed, watching as she abandoned him. He was all alone again, like when he'd been sitting, watching, clutching that pillow for dear life.

_Yeah, _He scoffed to himself, _A pillow's a real life-saver for someone as suicidal as me. _When the terribly screechy fire alarm finally stopped, Ash retreated up to his room. He needed some time for thinking. And anyways, he knew Mom would let him eat up there. Or at least, certainly at a time like this. He was aware of her weak heart, and he knew she was too nice to subject him to sitting at the table, even though he was a grown man after all.

"A grown man," He said the word aloud, just to hear it, "Hmm... the last time I saw Paul was when I was, what, fifteen?" A grown man. He let the phrase tumble around in his brain for a little while. It just sounded so, not like him. He'd always thought he'd stay childish. Always carefree and giddy. Ready to go out of his way to help people, at any cost. But now he was an adult, not to mention an adult on the verge of depression. He sighed again, probably for the millionth time that night, as he entered his old room. Even after nearly twenty years it still hadn't changed. Same old bunk bed. Same old desk. Same old tv in the corner. It was the same then and would always be the same. Unlike his luck with pokemon. That had changed, and would likely continue to change throughout his life. "And there's nothing I can do about it." He told himself as he climbed into bed, "My fate's no longer in my hands like it used to be. Or at least, I thought it used to be." He moaned as he rested his head on the pillow, shutting his eyes tightly. Hoping to get some rest. Maybe that would relieve him a bit. At least, for the time being.

Delia sat at the kitchen table with a fresh cup of coffee in front of her hand. At the other end there was a place setting with an omelet sitting in the middle, waiting for someone to come and enjoy it in all it's eggy goodness. Delia's fingers rasped back and fourth on the hardwood, breaking the silence in the room. She was getting anxious.

_I can't let him just sit up there and mope, _She thought. But then she paused, _On the other hand, he has been through a lot lately. It was only two years ago that Pikachu finally left, after all the other pokemon had managed to fade out of his life too. I think he might have been too distracted by his constant defeat to have noticed when they had left. But when Pikachu walked off on him, it brought on a whole new level of depression for him -and me- to deal with._

Delia was right. Ash was really depressed after Pikachu had left him. She remembered it like it was yesterday...

*Flashback*

"C'mon Pikachu, use thunderbolt! And give it all you've got!" Ash shouted. Across the battlefield from him stood a much younger trainer with a Spearow.

"Spike, use Arial Ace!" He shouted, pointing towards his opponent powerfully as the angry bird pokemon unleashed it's attack. Pikachu let out the last of it's energy as it lay there on the ground, panting and sweaty, from all of the battling it had done that day. Scratches smothered it's red -now a slightly paler shade- cheeks sacks from all of the times Ash's depression had made it so he neglected to take care of the little yellow pokemon. And then, mid attack, Pikachu froze. The lighting stopped coming. Pikachu frantically tried to get it's spark back, but to no avail. It was all over. The Arial Ace erupted right on top of Pikachu. A cloud of grey dust mushroomed over the field, but when it cleared, so did the outcome.

"Pikachu is unable to battle, so the winner is Spike the Spearow!" Announced Delia, who had been at the house when Ash had notified her of his upcoming battle to supposedly 'teach a newbie how it's done'. Ash's confidence in such a bleak time for him just astounded Delia, making her giggle at the time. But now she wasn't giggling, and neither was Ash. His head hung low as the boy complemented his pokemon on it's amazing flying-type moves. The boy then approached the older trainer, reaching out his hand to shake the other's.

"Hey, sir, thanks for the battle! You did really great, ya know!" Said the little boy, smiling gleeful. Ash lightly chuckled at this, though no one could see because the brim of his cap shadowed his face. The boy reminded Ash of himself, back when he had been a budding young trainer, ready to take on the world if he had to! But now, he was older, and reality had hit him faster than a bullet train. It was obvious now. He wasn't meant to be a trainer, and neither was this boy. So he needed to set the record straight, for that boy's sake. And his pokemon's.

"You know," Ash began in a deep, serious tone, "You're a good trainer. A good kid, too. Just enjoy it while it lasts." And with that, he turned and walked away. Far, far away so that no one could see the tears trickling slowly down his cheeks.

"Pika, pika!" Called Pikachu, using the last of it's strength to run after its trainer. It dashed in front of him, stopping him short and making him flinch.

"Pikachu, I'm sorry," He whimpered, "But I just don't feel like battling anymore. Okay?"

The electric mouse pokemon shook it's head, "Pi, pika, pikachu! Pika, pi.." 'Ash, you can't stop battling! If you do, then, then...' It sniffled, wiping its cheek with its little yellow paw. "PIKACHU!" 'Then I won't let you be my master anymore!' And without another word, Pikachu gave Ash one last little shock with the tip of it's tail, then dashed off, never to be seen again.

*End Flashback*

Pikachu. Delia had nearly forgotten that little yellow bundle of joy. But that was only for Ash's sake, not hers. If it had been her choice, she would have made Ash go out and find it. Pikachu was his greatest companion, someone he could talk to about how broken his heart was. And at times, just as fierce a rival as rivals could get. But always a friend.

The middle-aged red haired woman cocked her head and peered out the window. A fresh coat of snow was beginning to fall, like a sheet over the many blankets which had already completely hidden the ground. She turned he gaze slightly and met eyes with... the calendar.

"January," She said to no one in particular, seeing as Ash was upstairs and Mr. Mime was cleaning up in the living room, "I wonder... isn't today the anniversary of Ash and Paul's final battle?" She got up and neared the time-keeping device, placing her delicate fingernail on the box which displayed the date. And sure enough, there it was. National Mauve Knight Day. A day to honor that mauve haired knight of darkness. Famous for sweeping women off their feet, and opponents off the battlefield. A day to commemorate his final battle with his fiercest rival. A day about prevailing over your enemy. A day not about Ash, but about forgetting his existence.

Placing her index finger from the date to her shapely chin, she scanned the chart in front of her, then used her other hand to flip it several pages, until she reached April.

"I'll give him 'till April first," She said confidently, once again, to no one, "That was the day he started his pokemon journey, so that'll be the day he starts his new life."

* * *

"Ash! Honey, can I talk to you for a second? Please!" Delia asked kindly, and slightly impatiently, as she knocked on her son's bedroom door. He groaned, probably mumbled a curse word, then groggily answered the door. Delia walked right in, plopping down in his desk chair.

"What is it Mom?" He asked with a yawn, "Can't you see I was trying to sleep in here?"

"First!" Delia began, pointing defiantly at Ash, "I need to make a proposal."

"Fine, just calm down a minute," Ash answered, backing away from her index finger.

Delia cleared her throat, "Ash, I have decided that, after what's happened, you need a break. A three month break to be precise! And on April 1st, I will invite Professor Oak, Gary, and several other of you old friends to have a conference with you discussing your future as of that point. By then, we expect you to be fully ready to get a job and move out. But for now, you may stay here until you've recovered and are ready to get back up on your feet and start anew!" His mother's peppiness startled Ash, but he still managed to answer her.

"Alright," He said, "Thanks, Mom! I really appreciate this." He leaned over to embrace her, then she kissed his cheek.

"Oh, and second," Delia began, giggling a bit to herself, "You're omelet's getting cold."

* * *

"Remember Ash, three months and counting," Delia whispered as she began shutting his door. Ash lied in bed, his eyes wide and staring at the blank ceiling above. He was definitely ready for a vacation, and the whole 'life repair' portion of Delia's speech completely slipped his mind. It was going to be a nice three months, that was for sure. A nice, long, vacation...


	2. Chapter 2 PAUL

"Good morning, Master." A giggly group of voices chorused to me as I opened my eyes. I turned to my right, then to my left. Over the course of the night, it seemed half my staff had flocked to my bedsheets, each trying to spend their own personal moment under my outstretched arms. I sighed. No matter how many times I locked my doors, they would always find their way in. Always.

"Uh, good morning, ladies," I slightly groaned as the words spilled lazily from my mouth. I wasn't in the mood for this so early. Why couldn't they just leave me alone?

A uniformed maid approached me from the center of the crowd. "Master, your breakfast is waiting for you in the dining hall," She announced, folding her hands together and bowing to me. At least this one seemed a little interested in working, unlike the others, who were all just massive flirts. A lot like I could be at times, though never intentionally to start any meaningful relationships. Usually just to stir a little excitement. For my own sinister entertainment.

"Alright then," I grunted, "I'll eat it later. Right now, I need to go to my study to think." All of the girls started whispering in an ominous cloud of comments as I exited the room. I knew they wanted to follow me, but they were smart enough to realize I wasn't in the mood for their silly games.

As I casually strolled through the massive corridors, I peered out the windows. Crocuses were sprouting here and there. Cherry blossom were smothered across the tree branches like jam. Early spring. Almost April. Life had moved so fast ever since I had won, to me it was only yesterday that snow blanketed the landscape, and I was standing strong on that battlefield. I was the Mauve Night. I was the strongest, the toughest, the fiercest. Nothing could stop me. I was on fire.

"If only he could of seen," I whispered, touching my hand to my fingers delicately. These hands, they had done so much. But for some reason, the only time I remembered using them to make myself truly happy was at the tag battle in Hearthome city, nearly ten years ago. On that day, I had held in those hands the Soothe Bells of victory. But I had also held them with... him.

I shook my head, trying to disperse these thoughts away from my presence. It was only a matter of time before they consumed me. Though it wasn't as if they were truly 'evil'. It was more the fact that they upset me. They reminded me of him, the one thing I blew it with after all these years of non-stop success. He had been the most important thing, the one thing I was truly set on attaining. But he was also my biggest failure, more unattainable than anything else in my life, but at the same time, the thing that truly made me happy.

Just thinking about him gave my stomach a fluttering sensation, though it also made me feel like someone had dropped a rock down my throat. I needed to level out my emotions. I needed to reminisce.

As I approached my office, several maids passed me. They seemed to be chatting, but went silent as I waltzed by, not even acknowledging they were there. In an instant after I had turned the corner, they all blushed and fainted, giddy that I had simply been there. I needed some new maids.

The study was cold, dark, and musty. The air felt stale, so I decided to open up the windows behind the desk. _That ought to bring the room back to life a little_, I thought. When I touched the glass gently, I could feel it creak. It was old and needed to be replaced. A layer of dust was spread around evenly like icing on a cake. I smiled, gently gliding my finger across it, drawing a pokeball shape in the soot. It seemed so childish at first, just like how he used to be, when we first battled outside Professor Rowan's laboratory. I never had really considered it until later on in life, but it had been a lovely day for a battle.

Still smiling, I walked over to the bookshelf and scanned it with my eyes until I found a photo album. _The_ photo album. The one with all of my winnings recorded in pictures. Slowly, I flipped it to the very back. And I found it. That picture. Of us, holding the soothe bells after winning the Hearthome city Tag Battle. I looked so annoyed by his constant goofy grin as we stood there, sharing the moment. Seeing this made me grin so wide my cheeks started pinching. I set the book down on the desk, then plopped down in the old chair and took some time to stare at it. On the page before the tag battle photo was something terrifying that I wasn't ready to look at, so I just kept it on that last page as long as I could, hoping that it would soak up all my bad thoughts.

But it just wouldn't go away. That image of his struggle, his pain. It was all too much for me to take, so I took that Tag Battle photo out of the book and set it on my desk. I knew it didn't belong in there, and neither did my memories belong so etched in my brain.

*Flashback*

"Torterra, finish him!" Paul roared, commanding his super-strong grass type to use frenzy plant on their opponent: a pikachu. The great forest turtle ripped up the playing field with his angry vines, blasting the pikachu high into the sky. And since what goes up, must come down, said pikachu came down with a massive thud, landing in a hole of its own creation, completely KO'd by the grassy creature and its massive attack.

"Pikachu is unable to battle, and that means our amazing Mauve Haired Knight, Paul Shinji, is the victor!" Cheered the announcer. The crowd seemed thrilled that their hero had finally defeated his nemesis. It was as if, to them, this was all just some game that was to be played with no hard feelings. No hatred. No love. Only a passion for victory.

"Hey Ash, are you... okay?" Paul muttered. On the other side of the field, Ash was staring down at his shoes, his infamous cap making it hard to tell that he was actually crying. "Are you, alright!" Paul shouted it this time, reaching out towards Ash, trying to catch him as he ran away. Paul could tell he needed a moment to get away from it all, so he could come to terms with his loss and start anew. Little did Paul realize, Ash wouldn't be starting anew anytime soon. This loss, was just too massive. The mauve haired knight had no idea how much that boy with the pikachu cared about him. The only reason Paul ever tried to defeat Ash was to impress him. To show him his skills. But now he had gone too far. He had blown it with Ash, and Ash was ready to give up. On his dream to be a master. On his dream to show the world how good he could be. On his dream to show Paul how amazing he was, and to love him, and hold him.

Paul thought Ash desired non of his silly requests for love and affection. But he did, and was now convinced that his chance to receive affections from Paul was over. Now it was just him, and what was left of his pride. And after that pathetic of a loss, he didn't have much of it to show for.

*End Flashback*

Thinking about the first annual National Mauve Knight Day sent chills down my spine, like someone had just barely missed slicing it with their sword. I regained my composure, then exited the office, heading down the corridor to the breakfast hall for some smoked salmon and a baguette. Maybe the chefs even made me some homemade oatmeal. I needed all of my energy to go meet Reggie at noon to talk. Once again, it was time to employ a new work staff, and when it came to hiring maids, Reggie was very helpful (somehow). Hopefully the next group wouldn't be as lovesick as the last had been. That would be just plain awful. Because, to be honest, I had never really been fond of women. I mean, I was always known to be a ladies-man, but that didn't mean I enjoyed it. The way they would slather themselves all over me was just disgusting. Maybe this time, I would hire a couple of butlers to balance out the hormones a little bit.

* * *

"Hey little brother, long time no see," Reggie waved me towards the cafe table he had chosen. We were currently in downtown Floaroma, seeing as Reggie was visiting on business and I was planning on moving out to my villa in the countryside as soon as the weather got warmer. It all worked out just perfectly.

"Yeah, to you too," I chimed back. I was always good at talking to Reggie. Probably because he was my brother, after all, but as I grew older, he had become more of a mentor and a friend than anything else. No matter how many times I shot him down, he was always confident, and he would never, ever, reject me. I liked that about him.

He took a sip of his lemonade before looking back up to speak to me. "So," he began in that sly tone of his, "I hear you're looking for a new maid staff that can start working at the villa this summer."

"Yup," I sighed, memories flashing in my brain of countless of half-nude housekeepers piling on top of me like an army of ants on a cake, "I think the old staff's gotten a bit worn out by my charms. This morning I woke up to half of them cuddled up to me in their underwear."

Reggie chuckled, "Boy, there are some times when you're so lucky Paul. Too bad you don't exactly fly that way." Most of the world didn't know I was gay. Only my friends and family did, and even so, a lot of them seemed so in-denial about it, I tried not to bother them too much about my sexuality in the first place. It seemed like the whole world had fallen under the assumption that I was perfectly straight and perfectly good at picking up chicks -the latter being completely true, unfortunately. Luckily my disguise was quite heavy seeing as I couldn't bear to fall in love after _he_ turned around and walked out of my life.

"So, you know anyone for hire?" I asked, continuing the conversation after a sip of my latte, "Preferably of the Y chromosome, thank you very much."

After my question, Reggie seemed quite excited, so I let go of my drink and listened. "Actually, there's this new website one of my friends set up where you can hire housemaids and butlers in groups and individually from all over the world," He told me, handing me a slip of paper, "Here's the URL and the guy's phone number, just in case you have any questions or anything."

I smirked, as Reggie continued to go into detail about the site. It sounded a lot like an online dating site to me, except for hiring the people that clean up after you. It seemed relatively new, but Reggie informed me there is a catalog of users there already, including attractive male ones. Smirking again, I payed the bill on our drinks, then departed back to the villa as soon as possible, hoping to get online the minute I arrived.

* * *

"Vivian, fetch me my computer," I snapped my fingers as I gave the command to the infatuated housemaid. She was too blinded by my sex appeal to realize that her fetching my laptop would eventually be the cause of her soon-to-be-unemployment. I was sitting at the head of the table in the dining hall, enjoying a plate of grapes cut from a vine overlooking the waters on a cliff above Alto Mare. Housemaids were placed in each corner, watching my every move like a flock of Murkrow ready to grab something shiny to add to their nest. Except their nest were their (thin) reputations, and I was the something shiny, and I did shine, at least in their blinded-by-love eyes, anyways.

"Here you go, master," Vivian curtsied to me as she handed me the device. I swiftly opened it and typed in the site's name. The first thing it asked of me was that I made an account, which included a name. Deciding to be discreet, I put my username as my initials P.S. That way, it would be a lot easier to lure unsuspecting butlers into my trap.

"Damnit, these women are all useless!" I shouted, sounded a bit like I was scanning pornography, when in reality, I was searching for a new set of slaves to replace my old, worn out, intensely pornographic ones. And that's when I stumbled upon _him_. My previous reason for living and my current reason for ever becoming aroused. It was like a dream come true, a perverted dream mind you, but still a dream after all. There it was, in black and white and all the other colors of the rainbow (making up his adorably annoying smiley profile picture), proclaiming that retired trainer Ash Ketchum was looking for a job as a maid, previously trained by his mother's Mr. Mime (a professional, apparently), willing to move regionally and immediately. I deviously cackled to myself as I clicked the "request service" button at the bottom of the page. I had a feeling that my life, not to mention _his_ life as well, were about to get a whole lot steamier.


End file.
